


Unlucky

by saltysnack



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, F/M, First Love, My First Fanfic, Romance, Roommates, Slice of Life, ichigo is a simp, idk what else to tag, rukia is all of our first crush, so please be nice to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltysnack/pseuds/saltysnack
Summary: All Ichigo wanted was a roommate who could make rent on time and never interact with him other than the occasional "good morning" but apparently that is too much to ask for. Instead, he is now cohabitating with his childhood crush and contemplates why the universe hates him so much.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia & Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	1. Prologue

According to Ichigo, you have three kinds of roommates: the ghost, the vampire, and the zombie. If you ask him how he knew, he would tell you that he has lived with all three. The first was Arisawa Tatsuki, his childhood friend. He would never know if she actually lived with him or if it was a figment of his imagination but the trail of shit she would leave behind was an indicator that she was there from time to time. She didn’t last long because she found a girlfriend and moved out immediately.

The second was Ishida Uryuu, a lifelong friend. Ishida’s harsh fashion designer deadlines kept him up all night and he would rarely be around in the daytime. Sometimes late in the night, Ichigo swears he hears inhuman noises –mostly a mixture of stress eating and crying— come from the other tenant. He’s also anemic.

The most recent roommate was Asano Keigo, his high school buddy. The stench, and that is all Ichigo has to say about Keigo. Needless to say, he got kicked out. Ichigo would like to think that having all of these roommates have made him a better person and prepared him for the worst, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

See, when he had gotten the request from “Kuchiki Rukia” on the online site for his roommate wanted posting, he had no idea it would be THE Rukia. The name “Rukia” was uncommon but that didn’t mean that it was unheard of, so he thought that maybe this was a different kind of Rukia because there can be Rukias all over the world. And plus, the only Rukia he was familiar with had a different surname. Or maybe it was the same, but it was too long ago to actually remember. The user had no face pictures attached, but their profile picture was a black butterfly, which he thought looked pretty and trustworthy enough, but the bio was what caught his eye.

_I’m clean, I’m quiet, and I can make rent on time. I can also cook so that’s a plus._

And from that bio, Ichigo knew he had finally hit the winning lottery and gotten the perfect roommate. Or so he thought.

When he heard a knock on his door that following Saturday evening, he expected a cordial conversation with his new roommate and some small talk followed by cohabiting the area without ever having to speak extensively to each other again. But see, Ichigo is unlucky, especially with roommates, so when Ichigo saw that certain petite girl outside of his door, he was inclined to shut the door on her.

So, he did.

“Hey what the fuck was that for bastard?”

Yup. Still the foul-mouthed girl he used to know.

And still the same familiar butterflies.


	2. Beginning, Mashiba Junior High

“You’re in my seat.”

Ichigo looms over the tiny frame of a young girl. A bit scrawny, he thought. Her hair stuck out like a midnight wildfire with arms speckled in black and blue, Ichigo wasn’t quite sure if he had met her before. Karakura was no Tokyo. With its residence in the most western part of the district, Karakura existed in a bubble, so surely, he would remember if he had crossed paths with someone like her. Although he was never good at remembering faces to begin with, he surely knew that a face like hers was not easy to come by.

The girl’s eyes peeked up out from her fortress of hair as she slowly props her elbows up and lets her mouth drape into a yawn. A small huff to signify her annoyance at him, and a small gesture beckoning for Ichigo to come towards her. He complies.

“Fuck. Off.”

He was slightly taken aback, but not surprised. His natural auburn hair and a permanent scowl made him unlucky when it came around to interacting with his peers. He was the equivalent of a warning signal, complete with bright hair flashing at others to not get too close or he’ll bite. It’s a natural repellent Ichigo had never asked to be born with.

“Look, I’m not trying to get in any trouble, you’re just in the seat I was assigned.”

The girl fumbled in her bag to look at the stick she had drawn earlier. Flustered at her mistake, she takes her sparse belongings and dusts off whatever imaginary lint she had left behind. Head hanging low she moved to the next seat over, making sure to not make eye contact with him.

To Ichigo, this was the last time he wanted to interact with that girl. It was his last year at Mashiba J.H school and he was doing his best to just lay low. He wants nothing more than to take his exams, pass, and hopefully land in a somewhat decent high school with his tarnished reputation. He sits down, hoping that like magnets of the same poles, they continue to repel each other away.

But Ichigo seldom gets what he wants.

* * *

Although the room was dingy, Rukia was grateful. For the first time since she could remember, this would be the longest she had stayed put in a single location. The contents of the room were shared with two other children, who were much younger than Rukia, but the little futon in the corners was hers, and hers alone. Karakura was not a city with the caliber of its neighbor Tokyo, but from the rurals of Inuzuri, it did sure feel like it to Rukia. She shuddered at the thought of that name, Inuzuri. Hopefully, she’ll never have to go back. Hopefully. She breathes deeply, taking in her surrounding, hopefully she can stay this time.

“Settling in,” the man with mischievous blonde hair startled her as he pokes his head into the room. Rukia thinks he is like a skunk, mostly because of his white and green striped apparel, “Tessai helped me with enrolling you into the local junior high school in our district.”

“Thank you, Urahara-san.”

“I do have my hands full with the shop tomorrow, so I’ll leave it to you to pick up your uniform.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, but before that, we should take a trip to the Kurosaki Clinic to patch you up,” he sighs at her tattered appearance. She was only 14, but her quiet demeanor and weathered body matured her in comparison to those her age. She couldn’t help but feel guilty to be under Urahara Kisuke’s care, but if anyone how to handle damaged goods best, it was Urahara. And according to people around her, that’s all that Rukia was, damaged goods.

“Thank you.”

He must have noticed the slight hesitation in her voice, or maybe it was because she avoided eye contact with him, but Urahara Kisuke pulled out his fan to cover his face and started laughing to lighten the mood.

“Ahh, you’re so serious Rukia,” she recoils when he taps his fan playfully on her shoulder. Noticing his mistake, the corners of Urahara’s mouth slowly droops. The ride to Kurosaki Clinic was excruciatingly quiet, even with Urahara’s playful banter.

The visit to the clinic was fine, but the eccentric doctor said that Rukia was “malnourished” and advised Urahara to be careful with her fragile frame. Urahara asks Rukia to wait in the lobby as the two adults continued to talk about other adult things she guessed. On the positive, Rukia knew that Karakura was no Inuzuri, but that’s also the downside. Although the fears and anxieties of Inuzuri subsided, the fears and anxieties about beginning anew in Karakura settled in. She was sure her reputation would soon follow and consume her life in Karakura, just as it did in Inuzuri.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor assured her and Urahara, “I have a wee boy about your age, and he is the sweetest most kindest boy you’ll ever meet! Wait ‘til you meet my son Rukia, he is enrolled in the same school. There are nice kids around here, you’ll make friends.”

That was a lie.

Or at least Rukia would like to think so, despite the reassuring voice and warm smile of the doctor at Kurosaki Clinic, the girls surrounding her in front of the school gate was definitely challenging his words.

“My mom told me you came from Inuzuri, and now you’re living with that shady shop owner, what was it called again,” the sneer she gave Rukia was all too familiar. Rukia knew her place in society, in everyone’s eyes she’s lower than dirt, and the look the girl was giving her was telling.

“I heard he scams people.”

“His name is Urahara.” Her response garnered giggles from the girls.

“Oh, yeah don’t take it offensively, we’re just trying to be nice and get to know you more.” Another girl giggled. Rukia sighed because she knew the underlying responses of their remarks, but she did her best to play along nicely. Maybe she was just taking it all with a pessimistic lens, so she asked the group of girls if they knew where her classroom was.

“I bet you’ve never been to a school this big before,” one of them chuckles and Rukia held back a scoff, “but that’s up on the third floor. Good thing you came early and saw us.”

That was also a lie.

Rukia was grateful that she decided to come to school early. Although it disturbed her sleepless night’s rest, she was expecting these kinds of problems. You don’t live in Inuzuri your entire life and not prepare for the worst, and Rukia’s intuition was in her favor, especially after the nasty encounter earlier. Rukia did eventually find her classroom and to her surprise it was empty. Instructions were provided on the chalkboard to take a stick with a predetermined seat number, and so she did.

She couldn’t remember if she had fallen asleep, but she was hastily awakened by a stern voice.

“You’re in my seat.”

Rukia felt a groan from her body and the annoyance creeping up. Not this shit again. Whatever. She beckons him forward.

“Fuck. Off.” She was not letting Inuzuri repeat. She knew her place, but she also knew she did not have to dwell in it. Of course, the doctor assured her that people were nice, but she would not tolerate being the school’s punching bag just because of her background.

“Look, I’m not trying to get in any trouble, you’re just in the seat I was assigned.” Rukia felt warmth creeping up to her ears. She let out a small cough and rummaged through the patched bag that Urahara borrowed to her. There’s no way she could have made a mistake right. She didn’t rest well last night, but surely, she couldn’t have made a mistake.

It seemed like an eternity as she was staring at the stick she grabbed. She made a mistake. As she moved her things over, she wished that this encounter with that boy was their last. Rukia didn’t want to cause any trouble in Karakura. She just wanted a quiet life in the background, to be faded from everyone’s attention. She just wanted her own bed.

But life was never easy for Rukia.

* * *

The first week of school passed without a hiccup in Ichigo’s life. Soon, the girl he had such a strong first impression with faded into the background. Rarely making a noise, he was fascinated at how she was able to navigate their world whilst being invisible. Maybe in part, that was due to her rudeness, he never quite forgot that she displayed such nasty emotions to her desk neighbor, but she was cold. He shouldn’t hold a grudge though because he was also in her boat. He was an outcast, the other side of her coin.

Likewise, Rukia was grateful that she did not have to exchange words with him. Due to the guilt of their first encounter, she carefully planned her day to avoid him by coming to school earlier than everyone else and leaving much later. Her plan of being invisible worked because she was being ignored by her classmates. Part of that was due to rumors of her past living arrangements, but also maybe it was her face. She’d be the first to admit that she was not the most welcoming, but she thought it was better this way. If no one talked to her, no one could bother her, and no one could give her a reason to move again.

But it wouldn’t last.

Their careful mutual avoidance was disrupted on an ordinary afternoon, after Ichigo had an altercation with the local group of delinquents from a neighboring school. What started as an intervention to protect a fellow classmate turned into a full out brawl. His demeanor acted as an invitation for a fight, which the group gladly accepted and took it upon themselves to harass Ichigo. Thankfully, his classmate was able to leave, but Ichigo was outnumbered. He ran in the opposite direction of the Kurosaki Clinic. There was no way in hell he would let those freaks know where he lived and harass his family. He turned a corner and lost the group but became lost himself.

Bruised and battered, Ichigo soon realized that he had no idea what part of town he was in. Sure, he’s lived here his whole life, but that doesn’t mean that he had ventured into all parts of Karakura. As if his luck hadn’t been worse, Spring’s unpredictable rain began to pour.

And Ichigo did too.

He cried for the unfairness of being harassed simply due to his appearance, his inability to protect his classmate and fight, but mostly because he had no clue where he was. He was afraid to admit that he did not know how to get back to the Kurosaki Clinic. And, he cried because it felt good. It felt okay that his pent-up emotions had gotten a release from his system. And he almost felt better, clearer and ready to tackle his issues until,

“Hey, are you crying?” the umbrella shielded him from any more rain. Rubbing his eye to hide the evidence he looked to the owner of said umbrella to meet eyes with the unpleasant girl who sat next to him in class.

“No, the dirt… eyes, rain,” she chuckled, and he felt his ears heat up because of how unconvincing he sounded.

“Well, you look fucking awful.” He felt a gentle squeeze, “you should probably follow me until the rain stops so you can go home.”

He felt, comforted. It was like the unpleasant girl he had met the first day of class disappeared and was replaced by the girl who stood before him. Gentle. Comforting.

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly, tugging on her sleeve as she guided him to her home, “I’m Ichigo, by the way.”

“I know,” the corners of her mouth raise a bit, “you’re my seat neighbor. I’m Rukia.”

“Yeah,” he replicates, “I know.”

They continued to Urahara’s shop in silence, only the pitter-patter of the rain and Ichigo’s sniffing could be heard.

* * *

“Is that your boyfriend,” the little red-headed boy butts into the back of the shop as Rukia entered, one finger glued to the inside of his left nostril. Ichigo turns to their direction as he sees Rukia approaching with two smaller children and a tray of milk tea.

“No Jinta.” She places down the tray down, pushing one of the cups in Ichigo’s vicinity. The antsy red-headed boy takes Ichigo’s drink. Ichigo chuckles and Rukia rolls her eyes as she hands Ichigo another drink, making sure to shoo Jinta’s wandering hands away.

“Then what is he doing here?” Ururu, the second child, chimed in.

“Well,” Rukia and Ichigo share a glance, “he’s visiting the shop obviously.”

“But he’s not buying anything.”

“Yeah Rukia,” Jinta echoes Ururu and wiping his finger on his pants, “he’s not buying anything.”

“Okay! Any more questions and I won’t let you both have any more milk tea,” Rukia huffs, faking annoyance as the two children whined and groaned, this garners a chuckle from Ichigo.

This was his first time in Urahara’s Shop. He’s heard rumors of this place from school babblings, although he never quite paid attention to any of it. Despite it all, the shop was warm and a little bit cozy despite the unorganized shelves and disheveled appearance. Urahara was nice too, he guessed, a little bit weird but along the same veins as his old man. The nice thing about Karakura’s modest population is that its residence knows one another, and Urahara offered to take Ichigo back home because of the weather.

“No child should be left on their own, especially in this weather!” was what Urahara said despite Ichigo’s protest and insistence on directions only. So, he ended up accepting a ride home with Urahara after his uniform dried up. In the meanwhile, however, he was accompanied by the trio of Urahara kids. According to Rukia though, they referred to themselves as the Urahara Task Force, because they were in charge of helping around the shop in their free time.

As the afternoon came to an end, and Ichigo was about to leave, Rukia stopped him.

“I didn’t say this earlier, but I should have, I just wanted to apologize for our first meeting. You don’t have to forgive me, obviously, but I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t apologize for being a bitch. I was wrong.”

“It’s really okay,” his hand rubs the back of his neck, “it happens often.”

His nonchalant response made Rukia’s stomach lurch. The worst thing she could imagine for herself is if she had put someone else in her position, mistreating them, and she did that with Ichigo. She then understood that they were on the same boat. Both of them misfits.

A hand reaches towards Ichigo, “Consider this a truce then.”

He shakes her hand and for the first time, he sees her smile. Like a full smile. No side smirking, chuckling, or any of that sort. It was a genuine smile. At that time, he didn’t know the words to describe the feelings stirring inside of him, but he knew for a fact that he would be visiting Urahara’s shop again.

* * *

Before either of them realized it, their lives started entangling. Soon, it became second nature to both of them, as if it had been this way their entire lives, and they never knew a moment without each other. If they weren’t hanging out in Urahara’s shop and keeping up with his shenanigans, they were at Kurosaki Clinic where Rukia acquainted herself with his family. Yuzu and Karin loved having someone other than Ichigo to bother, in fact Isshin even jokingly called Rukia his third daughter.

“Seems like I’m your sister now, right Ichigo?” She’ll nudge at him teasingly, with a hand raised to her mouth, grinning. He’d roll his eye and stick his tongue out in disgust, ew as if. He tried to nudge back playfully before realizing her flinch. Rukia’s eyes grew big and she’d remain silent. Ichigo never attempted it again.

It was little unspoken moments like that which led them to understand the ins and outs of each other. Family was a touchy subject, so they’d jokingly dance around it and their school standings and rumors became butts of their inside jokes. Surprisingly, Ichigo found that Rukia was really bad at school, worse than he was, so he’d offer to tutor her.

“Are you _sure_ he’s not your boyfriend Rukia?” Jinta was always the troublemaker between the two kids, probing and prying on conversations during their tutoring sessions. Ichigo couldn’t help but feel his face burn in the situation. Maybe it’s just because he spent too much time with Rukia, it’s not like he’s known any other girl. Well, there’s Tatsuki, but he doesn’t think she counts. Or maybe it’s just that they have a lot in common. Yeah, maybe it’s that. Either way, he’d wish Jinta would stop asking that same question when he was over (or that he’d stop reacting in the same way to Jinta’s question).

“Stop bothering Ichigo, I’ll pinch you Jinta,” Rukia jokes as she uses her hands to imitate a crab, chasing the young boy away. Her back was turned to him, but Ichigo swore, that in the slightest, he could see how red her ears were. In a way, he wished he didn’t notice this because it made it harder to ignore the tingling in his stomach when she glanced back at him.

They continued studying through the evening, and Ichigo couldn’t help but feel his eyelids grow heavy. Rukia took the initiative to use the end of her pencil to tap his pencil as she sees his head bobbing up and down. This doesn’t work as he eventually succumbs to his tiredness. Rukia soon catches on and can’t help but look at him. She wished she hadn’t because she’d realized how soft his features were. His hair was like a fluffy blanket sticking out in all directions, falling above his tired eyes and his usually furrowed brows are gently resting as if they were never meant to take that shape to begin with.

Their routine settled and neither of them realized how quickly time passed. Summer came into full swing with June and Ichigo began to change with the season. He began to avoid Rukia at school, on their way home, and soon would stop hanging around her. Needless to say, this avoidance festered anger in Rukia. No way in hell would she let her first friend avoid her without properly explaining why. If it were rumors caused by the gossiping girls, she’d go over and beat them into a pulp. Or if it were the group of delinquents bothering him for a fight, she’d also beat them into a pulp. So, she decided, she’d wait until the end of their last class to talk to him before she ran to confront those bastards.

“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on?” she grabs his collar forcing him to look at her, but he was avoiding eye contact. Rukia couldn’t explain the feelings, but she knew that this hurt. Inuzuri can come back tenfold in her face and it wouldn’t hurt as much as this moment with Ichigo. It was a possibility that she hurt him. Could it be all her teasing? Did she take it too far one day?

He gently takes her hand off of him, “Not now Rukia.”

His voice was soft and Rukia’s arm burned where he touched her. She rubbed her forearm and caught a slight glance at his face. Rukia didn’t know much about anything, but she knew that Ichigo’s eyes doesn’t lie and that the issue he is facing is not about her, in fact it was bigger than her.

She was determined to make it right. Rukia marched right into Urahara’s shop and bought a chocolate bar with whatever change she had lying around and ran over to Kurosaki Clinic. She knew this wasn’t about her, and she didn’t know how to cheer Ichigo up, but this was the least she could do.

Ichigo, on the other hand, did not expect to see the sweaty girl show up at his door. Hair frazzled and busy trying to catch her breath, Rukia held out a chocolate bar. Confused he takes it.

“I know it’s your favorite,” she said in between breaths, “and I’m sorry for not realizing it earlier, but you don’t have to tell me. It’s personal, but I just wanted to give you something you like because you looked down.”

There was an unspoken silence between the two. In that moment, there were too many things Ichigo wanted to say to her, but instead he lightly taps her forehead with his fingers.

“You look ugly right now.” He smiled. It’s been a while since Rukia saw that smile, so she lightly nudges him. If this was a normal circumstance, she would definitely kick his ass, but she’s not here for that. They just have a funny way of speaking to each other.

For the first time, Ichigo tells someone about his mom and her death and in turn Rukia shares her past in Inuzuri, about her sister, Hisana. The pair wallowed with relief on the table, comfort settling in between them as the conversation comes to a natural halt. Since his mother had passed Ichigo never thought he’d ever find anyone to confide in, it was something he thought he’d take on with him forever.

“But it’s not your fault,” Rukia reassured him, “just like it was never my fault with Hisana.” She tried to convince herself as she said that last part aloud. Right, it was not her fault. It was not her fault that Hisana abandoned her in Inuzuri. None of this is, just like none of what happened to Ichigo’s mom was his own fault. And as their day together ends, the unspoken bond between them grew.

“Let’s promise to not fight again.” Rukia fiddled her thumbs together. _Fight_. What a weird word of choice for her to use.

“We didn’t fight though.”

“Or I don’t know, whatever the fuck happened between us. That was just awful.”

In no time, their days spent together slowly began again. Summer memories seldom suffice though, as Fall rolled into Winter, and the cold season brought the anxiety of entrance exams. Sticking together helped them avoid issues around school because they protected one another. Soon it became a competition between the two, studying to try to get into the same high school.

“I think I’ll just go to Karakura High School.” Rukia sighs at the endless school options before her. It would be best anyway, after calculating tuition and her grades up until now.

“Why would you Rukia, you’re so smart.”

“Well, it’s expensive.”

“But there are scholarships, come on you know you have more potential than you sell yourself for.”

“Okay, I can try, but what if you get in and I don’t.” Rukia could feel her face get hot. She didn’t mean to admit that out loud, but there’s a high possibility that could happen and she just wanted to plan around that.

“Gee,” Ichigo rubs the back of his neck avoiding eye contact with her because what if he sees her red face again, “well then I’ll just get into whatever school you get into. It’ll be fine, we can just continue to plan on sticking together.”

“Okay. We can plan for that.” Rukia’s voice grows small and she can barely hear herself over the thumping in her chest. If this is what true happiness feels like, neither of them wished for that evening to end.

But neither of them had planned for the unpredictable.

“I’m getting adopted?” The shop owner expected Rukia to take the news with more glee, but he could tell that she was everything but happy with the news that befell her.

“Isn’t it exciting? You’ll be a Kuchiki, and the paperwork had already been mostly processed, since it is your biological sister’s husband’s family, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be reunited?”

Rukia felt the ground spin. Would it be wonderful? Didn’t she already have a good life here in Karakura though? Wouldn’t it be up to her whether or not she should be adopted and leave Karakura now?

“What about Ichigo?” she was afraid to know what the shop owner would respond with. Mostly because she knew the answer.

“Well, what about Ichigo?”

“Wouldn’t he miss me. I mean, that fool can barely survive anything without my fucking help. And, what about Jinta and Ururu and-”

“Oh Rukia, we’ll all miss you.” Urahara’s usual aloof gaze softened, and that’s when Rukia knew that this wasn’t pretend anymore. The reality of the situation was that she’s leaving and leaving sooner than what she had planned for.

“Will I have time to say goodbye at the least?”

* * *

Ichigo was confused when he hadn’t seen Rukia for a few days. Of course, in no way was she obligated to hang out with him on her free days, but it would be weird when she didn’t. He figured maybe that dang Urahara probably gave her more work to do in the shop. It wasn’t until his return to school when he received the news that Rukia moved away. Before he knew it, Rukia was gone, not just from his life but from those around him as well. Yuzu and Karin eventually stopped asking for Rukia, Urahara’s shop adjusted to have one less helping hand, and it was like Rukia’s presence was never even in Karakura to begin with. There were no social media during this time in their life, there was no way he could get in contact with her again. The growing pains of losing someone he loved soon settled in all too familiarly.

The blossom of a first love blooms beautifully when you are at a young age and as one grows older, they can only attempt to recreate that flower. But you can’t because it blooms once and ceases to reproduce. And Ichigo, was unsure if he was ready to pluck that blossom to make room for new flowers or to let it stay and wither as the seasons pass. He was unsure if he was ready to keep up with the time passing.

And despite fate bringing unluckiness upon Ichigo his entire life, maybe this once, it was a blessing in disguise because standing before him in his living room was none other than the blossom he had been shielding for many years.

“Quit staring.”

She was more like a prickly rose, but he’ll take it. He’ll gladly take it, thorns and all.


	3. "The" Kuchiki Rukia

“Good night my little star,” Hisana whispered and gently pecked Rukia’s forehead, an unspoken routine. Rukia felt warm hands on her head, combing through with caution around the knots and matted parts. Everything was painfully normal, not a hair out of sight. The blankets she was under felt warmer than usual that night as Hisana’s lulling voice eventually got the better of her. Rukia’s last sober thought was that she would have to wake up three minutes earlier tomorrow to beat Hisana to the bath so she can finally have some running hot water too.  
It wasn’t until Rukia felt the sharp breeze hit that she realized something was wrong. Her frigid breathing and shaking arms were because next to her, laid the remnants of a person who wasn’t there. Rukia didn’t cry though, because maybe Hisana just went out for water, like that last time when she found Hisana behind the garden. She knew she had to stay calm for Hisana.  
Rukia felt her little heart lurch to her throat when she couldn’t pinpoint Hisana’s shuffling pace back inside. Was it because she wasn’t behaving or was it because she threw a tantrum when she knew Hisana was tired from working?  
“Hisana,” Rukia tugged the blanket tighter, trying to bring back the warmth that was there not too long ago. When no one answered, she decided to call out to her older sister again.  
“I promise I won’t yell anymore when you bathe me or comb my hair! So please answer me Hisana, I promise I won’t be a bad girl anymore,” the dizzying silence made Rukia’s eyes well up.  
That night as Rukia lie awake in Inuzuri, she realized that nothing was forever. This would be the first time Rukia would experience what is called, a heartbreak.  
But even when she knew all of that, she wanted to believe that Karakura was forever. She wanted to latch onto the glimmer of hope that for once she could be wrong about being alone. Maybe that feeling deep down inside of her was just a ghost of what Hisana had instilled into her. Because here in Karakura, Rukia finally had a family and now she has Ichigo. Rukia regained the warmth that Hisana had taken from her when she left Rukia alone in Inuzuri.  
Despite clinging onto this false daydream, Rukia knew deep down that these feelings weren’t forever, because nothing is forever. And when she looked at the dust trail leaving behind her memories of Urahara’s shop in Byakuya’s car, Rukia experienced her second heartbreak.

-

“Who is this,” the older Kuchiki asked. His voice icy, as if Rukia had already committed the worst offense to the Kuchiki family.  
“She is Rukia, grandfather, my wife’s younger sister.”  
“You always find a way to be shameful, Byakuya,” Ginrei spat, “first your late wife, now this orphan. You love collecting filth.” She would carry this greeting with her for the rest of her life.

* * *

Approximately 6 years and 5 months later

Rukia scrambled out of the taxi, quickly flashing her ID to the bouncer signifying that she is indeed _the Kuchiki Rukia_ that the man in the restaurant was waiting for.

“Apologies for being late,” Rukia couldn’t give a shit if she was on time for this or not.

“Not a problem Miss Kuchiki, I understand you’re a busy woman,” the man before her fiddles with the collar of his shirt. She couldn’t help but notice the sweat stains peeking through the underside of his arms and his increasingly clammy palm.

“Thank you for being patient. That’s certainly a quality I am fond of.” the Kuchiki girl hears him audibly gulp.

“It’s okay to relax, I’m a Kuchiki, not a gangster.” her sharp eyes say otherwise, also same difference, Rukia internally chuckles.

“Right.” He wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve, to Rukia’s disgust. She gestures a waiter her way and whispers in their ear. A quick nod and they turn to leave.

“I know the owner here, so I just thought maybe we could get a quick drink to loosen up before we order something to eat.” She smiled, knowing that getting him drunk will allow her a faster way to get out of this damn thing.

“Oh, you’re so mature for someone with _such_ a young face,” the man flashes a toothy grin, “I quite like that in a fetching young lady like you.”

Rukia felt a shudder up her spine and withheld a gag, “As for yourself. I couldn’t even tell you’re nearing 43.”

_With that hairline, anyone could tell_ , she scoffs to herself.

Her words seem to have struck a chord within him because he soon huffs with a new air of confidence. Rukia gave him a bigger smile, making sure to close her eyes in order to block him out of her vision, cursing the waiter that could not have been any slower. She promised herself that once she takes over as head of the Kuchiki household, she will send Ginrei to the worst senior home for setting her up on these blind dates.

“Here Miss Kuchiki, the selection of wine you had requested,” the waiter returned, much to the man’s demise. The evening continued just like that, uneventful until Rukia had gotten the older gentleman drunk enough to end the night.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” she gestures him goodbye before sending him off. She definitely will not.

From a glance, you could say that Kuchiki Rukia has got it all. She’s an NYU business student in the daytime and the secret heiress to a multinational billionaire company operated by some shady back deal doors. Typical young adult things.

Rukia learned early on that to survive in this world you had to be hard. You must not be afraid to be broken and you must not be afraid to march forward carrying your broken pieces in your hands. Rukia knew that upon being adopted into this wretched family, all of these values were instilled in her, and now with her newly founded Kuchiki title, it was time to solidify that.

That was until,

“We’re moving.” Rukia spat out her morning coffee at her brother’s deadpan remark. The drying edge of her morning face-mask now wet with her drink as she tries to grab a napkin to clean up before spilling the rest of her coffee on herself in the process.

“Excuse me, could you repeat that?”

“We’re moving back to Japan Rukia.” The person on the other line let out a huge sigh as if he was expecting this kind of response from her.

“If this is one of your attempts to tell a joke again Byakuya it’s not funny.” She dabs the rest of her upper body before heading to the sink to wash her cup.

“No, the elders and I spoke yesterday,” She felt her body tense up at the mention of Ginrei, “and we decided that it would be best for you to spend your last year of university here in Japan in order to prep you to take over soon.”

“I’m in my third year and I graduate soon,” she felt a panic rise, “would we be able to wait it out?”

“No.”

And before she knew it, she was on a plane headed straight to Japan. Her new destination, the University of Tokyo, that she didn’t have to try to transfer to because when you’re as rich as a Kuchiki, anything can happen.

This is exactly how she ended up in this situation. When she locked eyes with the boy sporting auburn hair on her arrival to her living arrangements, she felt all emotions leave her body. It was as if she had forgotten all of the hard-ass Kuchiki training, her mouth betrayed her thoughts and,

“Why the fuck did you close the door on me?” She was stunned at how naturally that phrase came out.

Even though it had been so long ago, it was hard not to slip back into old habits. Ichigo had always been her element of surprise. When she thought she was ready to let go of her connections to that boy and that place she once knew long ago, he just had to show up right before her to make her frigid heart beat faster. But Rukia knew she was not able to handle a third heartbreak.

* * *

The first week, about a month before classes start, was undoubtedly the hardest. It’s not like she knew Ichigo anymore, the Ichigo she did know was a distant memory in the past, he was a child. Getting to know the adult version of your first crush was terrifying because so much could have changed.

And she knows that so much has changed. They’re not kids anymore, and besides, she’s a Kuchiki now. Not that that title means anything to her, but they were not on the same wavelength for sure.

“So, who would’ve thought,” she chuckled lightly as Ichigo carried in the last of her boxes. A wry smile answered her remark. This was not making Rukia’s decision to listen to her brother settle any easier.

But still, even though they are not children anymore, there was still something about that certain Kurosaki boy that made her question everything up until this point. His fleeting gaze left nothing but burning holes of missed time.

The two stared at each other, mouths open, sounds came out, and they spoke over each other, but no coherent sentence was ever formed. Small short chuckles could be heard from the pair. Ichigo rubbed the back of his head and glanced away, unwilling to meet her eyes, but gestures for her to go first.

“So, how’s Yuzu and Karin I bet they’re really big now.”

“Yeah, they’re in high school.”

Rukia mentally cursed at herself. Duh, that’s how aging works Rukia. She felt her chest tightening from the situation. It’s her job to kiss ass and build a false sense of security towards men so she could climb the ladder while they’re distracted, so why was it so hard to make small talk with this boy? She will be living with him for the rest of this year so she had to do something. 

Ichigo then peeked over at the girl who shifted slightly as if she wanted to say something.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye” was what Ichigo _wanted_ to ask but that would be weird right? It’s weird to ask the girl you’ve known for like a few months why she didn’t say bye or give you an explanation. It’s weird that his infatuation with her never left and besides, they were just kids. Right? He felt like his head was spinning from all of this.

“I’m going to head in now,” he decides to say instead and points to the door, “I can show you where your room is.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Rukia felt herself cringe at how tense the situation is at hand. She will never let Ginrei live another day once she took over, Rukia promised herself. This, by far, was worse than any blind dates she had ever been forced to attend.

* * *

An uneventful week passed and another started. A routine was not set in stone yet as Rukia was still adjusting to Tokyo time. She rarely talked to her roommate besides the obligatory “good morning” and fights over who gets toilet time first. Rukia’s belongings still litter the apartment, she was not as clean as she advertised but blamed jetlag for her lack of productivity.

“So, have you gotten a chance to meet up with people from your department yet?” Ichigo asked, sitting beside her unraveling the various kitchenware Rukia decided was necessary as his new roommate.

“I just arrived.” He visibly flinches at her response.

“I mean like through SNS or something.”

“No.”

Sharp inhale, sharp exhale. The Kuchiki Rukia in his living room is not the Rukia from years ago. Do not take it personally. She’s still getting used to-

“Quit staring.”

This time breathing exercises could not help the frustration bubbling inside of Ichigo, so he burst.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

Earth came to a standstill and Rukia’s eyes grew big as if it was a black hole swallowing up his entire world. Ichigo was unsure what took over him, but he knew that he couldn’t bottle up that question any longer. Maybe it wasn’t his place to ask, but it was a question that was 6 years overdue and he won’t let it eat at him any longer. A gulp could be heard from his new roommate.

What was she supposed to tell him? _I got whisked away by my dead sister’s husband and now he’s like my dad I think because technically he adopted me into his family because it was her dying wish?_ No, all of that sounded too soap opera-y so she settled.

“I didn’t have the chance to.” Earnest. Honest. That’s all she could offer that the Kuchiki family haven’t taken from her yet. He noticed this too. The visible drop of her tense shoulders. The small frame of the girl he still knew.

She peeked up and saw his features soften and he audibly sighed. Once again, the air felt breathable and she realized that the boy she once knew still remained inside of this man beside her.

“I wanted to,” she added her voice quietening, “but I was told that I couldn’t. I’m sorry I hurt you because of that.”

_Sorry._

This felt familiar. He grabbed the table and got up. It felt like a long afternoon and he was least expecting all of this. He felt nauseous to all of these things and Ichigo knew that it wasn’t fair of him to corner her like that. He stretched lightly, not daring to look back.

“I know it’s not your fault.” he trod to his room, not giving her a second glance.

The swelling in her chest did not stop when he left. Instead, she felt like a shell of a person as she continued to unpack and put her belongings in the corners of the untouched parts in his apartment. It was her fault though, her stomach lurches at the thought of it all, she should have fought harder. She should have demanded to Byakuya about her choices and fought for her ability to say goodbye to the one good thing in her life. Just like how she should have fought harder to stay in NYU.

Later that evening, Ichigo hears a knock from his door.

“Let’s just meet each other again. Consider this a truce,” the familiar phrasing took him back a few years as she reaches her hand towards him, “Hi there, I’m your new roommate. My name is Kuchiki Rukia, and I look forward to living with you.”

Kuchiki Rukia. That name sounded strange to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for being patient with me as I'm posting these! also I'm open to constructive criticism bc I'm also trying to improve my writing (as well as my love for ichiruki hehe) I know I'm a slow updater, but I'm so thankful to you all who have been sticking around <3


	4. Trials and Tribulations of Housemates

In the end, the attempt at a truce provided nothing but awkward feelings arising between two people who were now strangers again. Rukia re-introduced herself and Ichigo closed his door on her out of frustration. The second week soon led into the third, but this did not stop Ichigo from observing the girl who now resided in the room across from him. After 2 weeks of living with Rukia, he had noticed three things.

One, Kuchiki Rukia is a social butterfly.

She was never without her phone, either glued to her face scrolling through Instagram or tucked between her ear and shoulder as she maneuvered the space between the kitchen and living room with a cup of coffee in between her hand. She’s either answering a call from her older brother, the Kuchiki elders, or that of friends left behind at NYU wanting to facetime or catch up. There was always someone demanding Rukia’s time.

Two, Kuchiki Rukia is not as clean as she thinks she is.

Of course, he gets it, she lived by herself prior to living with him, but they both had different definitions of cleanliness. For example, Rukia had a hard time adjusting to the fact that there is no electric dishwasher, but instead, _she_ is the dishwasher. The dishwasher was a luxury Rukia was afforded in the states, but Ichigo’s small apartment does not have the capacity for such a device.

“To be fair,” she states matter-of-factly, “it is also hard to find an apartment with a dishwasher in New York.”

However, he knows that _she_ has hand-washed dishes before, he had seen her. Sure, it might have been forever ago, but it’s like muscle memory. He couldn’t push it past her though, so instead, he’d double-check every cup she had washed or the ridges in between spoons that she may have missed.

Similarly, she seems to have forgotten the concept of “picking up after yourself.” It wasn’t much compared to Keigo or Tatsuki, but it did get under his skin sometimes. It started as scattered papers and a laptop here or dropped laundry there which is nothing much and he could live with it, but the worst offense by far was seeing a tiny black-laced underwear that had little to no fabric (could that even be counted as underwear?) plastered on his living room floor. He did not mind it, at first, but it did irk him when the third day would roll around and the risqué garment still lingered on the floor. _At least it was clean_ , he reasoned with himself.

Three, Kuchiki Rukia does not know personal space.

He woke up one day to the girl perched upon his counter, reaching for a cup. Her cropped shirt rising higher, much to his demise, as she struggled to grab the edge of a coffee cup.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Make yourself useful and grab this cup for me.” She slightly tugs on her shirt and stood back to make room for him, but that’s when he noticed it. His missing boxer hugged her hips loosely but snugly, as if it was always meant to be worn that way.

“Is that my boxer?” he felt his entire face go hot. She quickly glances down, refreshing herself on the article of clothing she decided to throw on before leaving her room today, and shrugs.

“Dunno. It was taking up space on the little drying rack outside and I figured it might have been one of mine that I’ve forgotten to take in. Now can you please help me grab a cup?”

“Rukia I swear those are mine,” he brought down a cup with ease and slides it her way, “why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I did,” she puckers her lip bringing a hand to her cheek, “or at least I think I did, but no time dwelling on that. I’ve got business with my family today, so we can talk later.” A hip-bump replaced an “excuse me,” then she was bustling back to her room with coffee and phone in each hand, leaving behind a flustered Ichigo.

Ichigo’s observations brought them to this point in time.

“An intervention?” she scoffed and folded her arm in disbelief.

“Yes,”

“For what exactly,”

_For what exactly_ , he wrestled with himself. None of these things was her fault. He knew that bit, but he couldn’t understand why he finds himself exasperated by her presence.

“We need rules, about sharing this space together.”

“Okay,” she slouched a bit, “go for it”

Rules didn’t bother her. She’s a Kuchiki now, and the Kuchiki family had rules for everything, from how you greet elders to how you graciously yawn in the presence of men because they were stupid and old-fashioned. Of course, she would never say these things to them.

“Don’t take my boxers.”

“Well, don’t take my face masks.”

“What? I don’t—” his face tinged pink, a stammering mess.

_He is still so easy to mess with_ , she chuckled.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about Ichigo, it’s the 21st century, skincare is important for people of all genders.” She nonchalantly brings her hand up to check on the nonexistent debris on her fingernails as he struggles to maintain himself.

“No phone calls after 11.”

_Fine with me_ , she nods in agreement. Rukia was more than happy to stop trying to entertain the _friends_ that the Kuchiki family wanted her to have.

“Cups should be moved down for easier access.”

“Used cups should be in the sink instead of piling up in the living room.”

“No harboring secret feelings of resentment,” he flinched at her comment, “and communicate it when I have made you upset somehow.”

The room went silent, as intended by Rukia. She’d be the first to admit that she felt a little bit cornered by his sudden request for an intervention. By all means, she was doing her best to be a good roommate.

Fine, he will put it all on the table. _It’s only the right thing to do_ , he thinks.

“I don’t think I ever healed from you leaving Karakura.” Ichigo felt good letting that out, it was like he knew she was waiting to hear this. The silence between them did not help drown out the thumping in Rukia’s chest. _Me neither_ , she wanted to say. But she held her tongue. What’s the use, this was only for a year? A year before she would have to leave him again, and she knows it. So, she stayed silent, only looking back at the boy before her.

“I’m also sorry for acting this way,” he solemnly averts his gaze, “I know I’ve been hostile since your arrival and honestly you don’t deserve it. I just feel tired from all of these surging emotions when I look at you.”

And he was still so honest, wearing his big heart on his sleeve, just like how she remembered him years ago. _Me too_ , but instead she just looks away.

“I’m working on it though, it’s not fair to burden you with my confusion. Besides, we are trying to get to know each other again.” He reaches his hand out toward her, gesturing for a handshake.

“What is it,”

“Our truce. I didn’t answer you last week, and it’s a little overdue, but hi. I’m Kurosaki Ichigo, 20, and a pre-med major. I also look forward to taking care of you, as my roommate that is.”

The nervousness in his voice made her warm. _What a dork_ , she takes his hand, it feels much bigger now, more than what she remembered.

“I’m happy to be in your care.”

* * *

It was as if the invisible veil of insecurity lifted that evening.

The talk in the afternoon helped iron out some of the tensions that grew during their time apart. Rukia got back from the local Family Mart, a little bit giddy and Ichigo sets down a plate for her, welcoming his roommate back into _their_ apartment. Awkwardness still floats amongst them, but at this moment, it felt like time had never passed.

“I know things haven’t been the best between us, but that’s why I brought this. I never had a proper roommate welcoming party, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Let’s loosen up!” she says slamming the biggest bottle of peach soju he has ever seen in front of him. He looks in awe. Ichigo never knew that Family Mart carried alcohol bottles this big, but he’s never paid much attention to it.

“I can’t stand sake, so we’re just going to settle for perfume in a jug.” she was enthusiastic, to say the least, but he couldn’t deny the nervous feelings inside of him.

“Are we going to drink all of that?”

“Just enough to play a game.”

“A game?” his puzzled look was followed by a little mischievous grin from the girl.

“Truth or dare, roommate edition.”

“What are the rules?” he knew this would not end well.

“Oh, come on Ichigo, you act as if you were born yesterday. Rules are, you drink if you wuss out of doing a dare or telling a truth.”

“Are you starting first?” he shouldn’t have asked because he knew she would reply with,

“Of course, truth or dare Ichigo?” but he couldn’t stop himself, because Ichigo wanted to see how her cheeks puffed up when she smiled. It took everything in him to not touch her face.

“Dare.”

“Okay, I dare you to wash the dishes tonight.”

“Not fair. I cooked,” He takes a full shot of soju and felt his entire body scrunch. Rukia was not kidding when she described this as 'perfume' in a jug, “my turn then. Truth or dare?”

“Dare, obviously.”

“Well, I dare you to vacuum tomorrow.” A small scoff could be heard before she drinks the soju with a straight face, much to Ichigo’s awe.

The evening would continue like this for a while. Ichigo defaulting to “dare” avoiding Rukia’s questions, but eventually downing the shots as she would increase the preposterousness of each new dare. Rukia was the first of the two to finally choose “truth”.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Ichigo’s words were slightly slurring, but he still knew what he said. The confidence juice was getting to him.

“I ran away from someone who was supposed to be my husband,” she snorts but he did not find that to be amusing, “what about you?”

“I didn’t choose truth.” He sticks out his lower lip, forming a cute little pout. Irresistible.

“Oh okay, I’m sorry,” Rukia did not have the self-control Ichigo had, so she reached over the table to lightly flick his protruding lower lip with her pointer finger, “truth or dare Ichigo?”

His lower lip felt hot, and like a virgin maiden, he uncharacteristically brings a hand over the part Rukia touched. This gesture of his produced another cheek puffing smile from her, followed by a full-bellied laugh. Maybe it would be better for him to continue the evening without consuming any more alcohol so he could remember this.

“I had a girlfriend once, in high school.”

“What was she like?” her smile dropped. _What did you expect_ , she mentally slaps her cheek, _of course he would date in high school, you can’t expect him to stay single!_

Sensing he may have said something wrong, Ichigo backtracks.

“It was only for like a week or two. I can’t even remember! Besides she’s dating my friend now and she was always like a sister to me.”

“What was her name?” it wasn’t fair of her to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself from probing.

“Only if you tell me the name of your ex-husband.”

_Touché._

“It was an ex-fiancé and his name is Abarai Renji.”

“Abarai Rukia would have sounded dumb,” he felt like he was in a VR game now and none of what was happening before him felt real, which gave him the confidence to declare that man stupid. Everything was slightly blurry, “and her name is Inoue.”

The name rang in her ear. She couldn’t help but feel her stomach involuntarily fall a bit, but as quick as that feeling came, it left. Before either of them knew it, Ichigo was clinging onto her as if she would leave him again. Rukia decided to call the game quits before her roommate decided to make a mess out of himself.

However, it was a bit late for that.

“Please don’t go again,”

“Ichigo, you’re drunk”

“No, I’m not.” He’s pouty when he’s drunk. She’ll take note of that. His close-knit brows grow apart, and he speaks in higher octaves. The bottle was more than half-full still, and she had not felt the slightest bit of alcohol in her system yet.

When she laid him in his bed, he turned to her and placed his hand on her cheek. Ichigo didn’t want to lose his self-control, but in this moment, he felt like he would regret it forever if he hadn’t touched her. And he didn’t want to have feelings of regret towards Rukia any longer.

“I wish you wouldn’t have to leave again.” The words scrambled out of his mouth. He had no intention of letting her in on his personal thoughts, but his vocal cords were not listening to him tonight. Ichigo felt a sharp pang in his heart when her hand slowly peeled his hand away from her face. Gently, he felt a stroke on his forehead leading to a pat on his head.

_I’ll have to go eventually_ , Rukia thinks.

“I won’t leave without saying goodbye this time.” She could tell this was not the answer he wanted, but it was the best she could offer him.

“Rukia,” she wanted to melt away when he called her name so softly, “can you promise to say goodbye to me this time?”

“I promise.” She didn’t stop stroking his hair until his eyelids got the better of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are the characters a bit ooc? i just wanted to write a soft ichigo because i love him


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